Very nice. Truly the reflection of a “Mother’s Day” that just keeps going.


Sixteen years ago, on a cool Thanksgiving Sunday morning, I pushed and you emerged, as we were physically separated … by life.

Today we celebrate you, your life. Though you are are a gifted young man, we do not celebrate because of what you have done, we do not even celebrate because of what you will do. We simply celebrate that you are, that you live, that you have life.

As the youngest in the family, you are like the caboose that leaves every station last, that feels the twists and the turns with the greatest force, that enters every town after all the rest. It was after you grew too big that the onesies in the nursery cupboard were put away, after you viewed and smudged the picture books, they were handed down to younger ones, soon you will be the last to use the coveted ‘L’ as you…

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